A Kingdom of Ashes
by mushroompirate
Summary: A raider veteran goes all in with his latest hand, and picks up something unexpected on the river. It's time to meet the new boss, one not at all like the old boss.


Author's disclaimer: Okay, so I haven't written anything in a long time. But my computer is dead, and it's been raining heavily outside these past few days, so I've got little else but my phone to occupy me in my free time. I decided I'd try a little experiment. I wrote this fic today on my phone to see what would happen. The process was a lot more laborious than I expected, and I have no idea how to do any kind of revision when I have trouble typing the words on this little keypad to begin with. I'm not sure who would want to read this, but it was a fun diversion for what it was. If anyone has any comments or criticisms, or is interested in reading more of this, let me know. So, without further ado:

 **A Kingdom Of Ashes**

Only moments into this and he was already starting to think this was a bad idea. She walked in like she'd lost a wrestling match with a wanamingo, drenched in dried blood of a color to match. She was short and nothing special, dressed in mismatched Gunner combat armor and a blue vault-tec jumpsuit. Probably another fatcat from 87 playing lottery with the Wasteland. The suit was torn to shreds, no doubt courtesy of the gauntlet, but the green light shining at her side meant her pipboy was working fine. What could be seen of her under the blood was chapped, taut, and pale. Her sandy hair was coming out in clumps, and with each second her hands shook with uncontrollable spasms. He'd seen worse before, but not much - an unmistakable combination of radiation sickness, panic, and the jet jitters.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. She'd done the deed all right, just the way he'd planned. But who he'd gotten was a different story altogether. Where was the tough champion he needed to cow the gangs into submission? Where was the mean sunnavabitch he needed to face the challenges necessary to turn this place into something great? This unseeming slip of a girl looked like she'd bleed to death before she ever left the showroom floor.

He stopped and considered his options. It wasn't too late now to go back on the plan and figure some way to salvage the situation. Or was it? The Operators would be the first to go against him. They'd backed his plan the most and if feeding him to the bloodworms was the only way to save face they'd hold him down to the ground and start thumping the dirt without a second thought. He only shuddered to think what the Pack would do with him before they were done. If he was lucky, there wouldn't even be a corpse left behind before the Disciples got their claws in him.

As he considered what to do next, his thoughts were stopped in their tracks by the look in her eyes. Even through inches of dirt-caked plexiglass, the eyes he met approaching his booth were enough to jerk him back a step. Wide and alert even under the clouding haze of pain, due to the pipboy connected through her central nervous system, her ashen eyes smoldered with a burning determination and anger. And he knew in that moment that if he didn't open the door soon, she would break down the wall separating them with her bare hands and cut him open with the glass.

The arena was silent save for an electric cackle and the plodding sounds of her uneven footsteps, the gangs still reeling from the brutal takedown of their unapproachable overboss. He could make out movement in the stands, though, as each of the gangs unconsciously tightened together around their leaders. Any second now the situation could turn around into something he couldn't control. Pure chaos would reign if he didn't take charge of the situation now. Blood would spill out from the arena, into the streets and the marketplace; gang killing gang with the slaves caught in the crossfire as collateral. He didn't know who would win, but he knew that left unchecked, the final victor would rule only a kingdom of ashes.

One final look in her eyes and Porter Gage knew it was time. He'd only gotten this far in life by making the game play by his rules. He'd stacked the deck and this was the hand he'd drawn. It was time to collect on his gamble. He gave a signal to Red-Eye, and the amphitheater speakers blared to life.

"WE HAVE A WINNER!" Red-Eye yelled into his microphone, from off somewhere sight unseen. The sound of his voice reverberated around the arena through dozens of crackling speakers in an ear splitting cacophony of noise, shutting up any conspiracies the gangs might have begun in the stands. "The Gauntlet has a new champion!"

The sound of the loudspeakers was made even worse by the metal eyepiece he wore around his face. Gage fell back and covered his ears with both hands, with half a mind to tear his eyepiece off to cut down on the racket. He saw the newcomer do the same, a difficult thing to accomplish with a rocket launcher propped up on one shoulder.

"I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it before my very eyes, folks! Colter. Is. Dead!"

The crowd in the stands immediately came to life, the shock of Colter's death finally washed away by the static crackle of Red-Eye's familiar voice. Some of The Pack stood up and crowded against the fence, rattling the metal and beating against it with machetes and pipes. Others among the crowd began cheering and jeering at Colter's death and the appearance of the newcomer gauntlet survivor.

"Gauntlet champion!" Red-Eye's voice spoke through the speakers again. "Step forward and collect your prize!"

Operator Mags' voice shouting voice could be heard above the din of the mob. "That was quite the show you put on, Gage! Now let's see if you can fucking deliver."

Another round of fence rattling and jeers from the crowd were the only response Mags got. Gage had eyes and ears only for the woman standing across the glass from him on the arena floor.

"Hey there little lady," he said into the intercom. "You still standin'?"

"You've got about ten seconds to explain what the Hell is going on here or I swear to God…" She began to say, shifting the weight of her spent launcher. Her glowering eyes burrowed into his, and his gaze wavered.

He held his hands up. "Whoa, whoa, hey. We're on the same side here, remember? I scratched your back. You're alive. I want to keep it that way."

"And do what? Play more of these sick games of yours?"

"No, no. Games are over. You and me, we're on the same team now and we're playing for keeps. Say, you got a name I can call you?"

"You can call me whatever the hell you want as long as you start answering questions."

He already felt the headache coming. "Sure thing, Overboss."

"Overboss? What the hell is that?"

Gage gestured toward the heap of burnt flesh and broken steel lying on the middle of the arena floor. The smoke and flames had died out, but arcs of electricity still sputtered out from the circuits of Colter's power armor. Even without the burns, his face was unrecognizable thanks to the heft of her rocket launcher caving his skull in during the previous fight. "Your predecessor," he said. "And now you. Fuck, that was some way to use a rocket launcher, boss. You seem lucid enough, but are you hopped out on psychobuff or what?"

She gave him a ghost of a smile. "Let's just say I learned a few new applications of law since studying for the bar."

She finally set the rocket launcher down, leaning it against the wall as she inched towards the intercom. "I'm guessing the title comes with more responsibility than a circus sideshow attraction. So what, I run through your death trap dungeon, beat your old boss, and now I'm in charge of your gang? Is that it?"

"That pretty much sums it up, yeah."

"Hardly seems like a stable way to transition power."

He smiled. "I see you're thinking long-term."

"Which is why I'm already worried. What's to stop the next crazed ganger with a shiv from planting it in my back the minute I step through that door? Hell, it could be you for that matter."

Gage chuckled. "No need to worry about me just yet, boss. I'm number two around here. The right hand man. And I like to keep it that way."

"So no one tries a go at you, I take it. This was all your plan, then?"

"That's right. I figured a newcomer strong enough to beat Colter and the gauntlet would warrant the respect of all the gangs. Everyone knew it was Colter's time to go, I decided how."

"The gangs just all agreed to this? Why me?"

"Could've been anyone, as long as it was an outsider. This shit here is a powder keg with a fuse lit, ready to blow. The gangs are already at each other's throats. One false move and it'll all go to shit. Colter sitting on his ass lapping it all up was only making it worse. A new player at the table will make everyone stop and think about what's important. Guess you're just the luck of the draw, little lady."

She formed her lips into a snarl as she considered his words. "So you'll just… arrange for my death if you don't like the way I'm running things? Or one of the other gang leaders will take me down if they think I'm too weak? That doesn't strike me as good job security."

Gage tipped his head. "Don't get complacent. Colter shuffled these gangs into one deck with the promise of making this place great, then sat on his ass as soon as we got him through the gates. I don't care how you run things as long as you keep on top of things. I've got your back against the gangs if they step out of line."

"You don't know shit about me. What if I refuse?"

He shrugged and gave her a look over. "Listen Ace, you've got something. There's no doubting that. I don't know if it's luck, or cunning, or determination, or just that mean arm of yours, but you made it through the gauntlet. That was all you. Colter was the strongest out of all of us. With my help, you beat him too. I don't know if you could've done it solo. But what I do know is you're bleeding and tired. We've been talking awhile now, so your adrenaline is shot. You're probably ready to fall off your feet. If you don't agree with me right now, I walk away and never turn back. This whole place will go up in flames before the day's end without the two of us. It'll be a shame to fold and leave everything behind, but I think I'll be just fine. You, however, are gonna be stuck with no friends in the eye of the storm. So what's it gonna be? You taking this bet or not?"

She let out a deep sigh, and held up one hand to her temple. When the hand began to spasm against her face, she pulled her arms across her chest and gave him a mean look.

Gage frowned at the sight, but said nothing in response. They had some issues they'd need to sort out, but that would come in time. He gave the woman a quiet moment to think about her future. There was only one decision she could come to anyway. What other options did she have?

"Don't think I don't have other options," she said suddenly, startling him.

"No!" He started. "I wouldn't."

"Good!"

The arena was empty now, save for the two of them. Most of the crowd had left long ago, no doubt to get drunk and spread the account of Colter's demise to the rest of the park, as if Red-Eye's announcement hadn't been enough. Even the stragglers, low ranking minions who had wanted to meet their new Overboss firsthand, had left shortly after it became clear that Gage and the newcomer's jabbering wouldn't be over anytime soon. Just the two of them and the rotting corpse of the past.

"Before I agree, I need to ask just one thing."

"Fire away, boss."

"I'm looking for a child. A baby boy. His name is Shaun. He was kidnapped not long ago. H-his mother would be very pleased if I found him. Have you seen him?"

He looked at the woman on the other side of the glass. She wasn't playing her cards close with this one. The expression on her face was conveying so much, but he had no idea what. There was a story here, he knew, that he'd have to get to the bottom of later. For now, though, he saw no reason to tell her anything but the truth. "There's not many kids around here," he said. "if Colter had one shred of human decency, it was that he didn't kidnap no kids. Lousy for labor anyway, and who knows what the Disciples would to do them. No, every child here belongs to one of the gangs. They were born into this life."

The expression on her face got even more complicated, a strange mix of elation and depression, victory and defeat - A simultaneous joy and sorrow the kind of which he'd not seen in this life. Wasn't much to be happy for that wasn't someone else's loss, but usually that was two expressions on two different faces, not both on the same.

Before he could formulate a proper response, she steeled her expression and spoke. "All right. I'm in."

An unexpected giddiness washed over him, and Gage let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "That's just great boss, you made the right choice. You got no idea. Now come on, I'll just open this door up and we'll get you set up straight."

With a push of a button, the lock released and the door came wide open. She took one step forward and stumbled the rest of the way towards him, nearly slamming him into him and pushing him down. He caught her roughly and readjusted his grip as best he could, finally getting her into an awkward hug.

"Whoa there little lady, easy there," he said, patting her back. "You're worse off than I thought."

Her face was close to his, pressed up against his chest, and covered in blood and sweat. "So cold," she said, her ashen eyes chillingly alert and looking into his. "C-cold."

That was one of the strangest things dealing with someone wearing a pipboy. They could be shot up to hell, bleeding out all over, and they still had the acuity that came with a bottle of Nuka Quantum or a dose of mentats, and none of the side effects. They could stay wide awake for days, until they punched in the command to sleep. He'd once seen an ambush go south fast, three fools hiding in the bushes against a lone courier. A flash of orange light and a narrowed eye were the only signals the courier gave out before a smoking gun was in the air, and three men were nothing more than feast for vultures. Every action had been precise and calculated, not a single movement wasted as three would-be ambushers were butchered mercilessly. Even after all these years, the device was a miracle of pre-war technology. As long as she held onto it, the plan could proceed. He had to believe.

"Hell yeah, you've lost a lot of blood, boss. Let's just sit you down and get some stimpaks in you." He guided her out of the booth, over to a nearby seat and set her down. It was a good thing everyone had cleared out of the place, or his plan would already be going to shit. Pipboy or not, agreement or not, if the gang leaders saw how weak she was right now, they'd put a bullet in her faster than you can say bingo.

He stepped over to the first aid box in the ride operator's booth. Exclusively for Colter's use up to this point, it was full of useless shit like buffout and daytripper that the old boss used habitually. It had some stimpaks and radaway though, so he just grabbed everything with both hands and dropped the stash of chems on the bench next to the new Overboss.

He sorted through the big pile and spoke. "Need to get some radaway in you first, though."

"Radaway?" She asked.

"Yeah. One look at you tells me all I need to know. Another round in the gauntlet and you'd either wake up dead or a ghoul."

She looked puzzled.

"Oh hell girl, you're from a vault. Don't they teach you anything in there? I know you don't have Brahmin milk, so what do they do about rads?" When she failed to give a meaningful response, he continued with a sigh. He pulled her tight blue sleeve up and stuck the needle of the radaway in her arm. "You'll be on the shitter for days, but this'll flush all that nasty gunk out of you."

"Great. The radaway cleanse diet. I'll tell all my housewife friends."

He ignored her. "Now for the stimpak. Won't do anything about those bullets inside you, but it will replenish your missing blood at least." He stuck another needle in her arm.

"I suppose this is what passes for the medical profession nowadays."

"Don't have no fancy doctors around here, boss. One of the ah, traders, in the market'll need to get a better look at you, but that can wait until after you're on your feet. We need to get out of here soon, appearances to make and all. At the very least, you'll be much safer and more comfortable at home."

"I'd trade both arms and legs if I could go back home," she said. A distant look crossed her face. She was playing some other game, at some other table. "Somehow I don't think we have the same place in mind."

"Probably not, boss. The Fizztop Grill, overlooks the whole of Nukatown USA. The seat of Colter's kingdom, and now yours."

"I suppose I can't get you to just carry me there, can I?"

"Afraid not boss. You need to be seen walking away on your own two feet or people will start to get funny ideas."

She sighed. "All right, I suspected as much. I suppose my absence already is getting tongues wagging. Well, come on then, let's get this show on the road."

"Glad to hear it, boss. You're starting to look better already, you think you can stand?"

She frowned and sat up, reaching over to search through the stash of chems on the bench beside her. She pulled out a sealed MedX and held it up in front of her face. Giving the bag a glance over, she broke open the package and pulled out the syringe. "This stuff is still around? It safe?"

"Boss, wait a minute."

She plunged the needle into her arm and squeezed down. "Ohhh," she moaned as the painkillers kicked in, leaning back and closing her eyes. "That takes me way back."

Gage sighed, but what could he say?

Her eyes opened, eyes clear with the same alert gaze despite the numbness she must be feeling. She planted her feet firmly on the ground. "Okay," she said, standing up. She bent her knees and gave her legs a bit of a test. "I can walk now." She took a step forward. "Say, there's hostile gangs out there, they packing heat?"

"Yeah boss."

"Is it safe for me to be walking around without some protection? My gun's all spent. There's a reason I had to introduce your old boss to the broadside of a launcher barrel."

"Sure boss, yeah, I've got something for you around here."

"Great. You got a Wattz 2000? I favored them back in the war."

He whipped his head, startled. He wracked his brain for any idea of what she might be talking about. "War? What war? We ain't got none of that fancy shit. I thought you were from 87. What vault did you say you were from?"

"I - you didn't ask."

He studied the words on her jumpsuit. He hadn't noticed before because the armor she wore hid the largest numbers, but looking at her now, he could see that she wasn't from vault 87 at all. "Vault-one-eleven," he read aloud. "What the hell is vault 111?" His mind gathered the information he'd been given into a blender and spit out the best answer he could come up with. "That some kinda Enclave shit or something?"

She laughed. "What do you know about the Enclave?"

"The way they tell it, they were the last remnant of the Old World government. Of course, they were really hush-hush about everything, except down in the Capital Wasteland. But they've been gone at least 10 years now, after that big battle with the raider gang in power armor down south. I meet a couple every now and then, remnants of the Enclave clinging to life in the waste however they can. Last one who came through here stopped off in Galactic Zone. Haven't seen him since. Such a shame, he had some really sweet-looking power armor."

Her expression became more thoughtful as he spoke. "Well, I am ex-military," she supplied with a sly look. "You can call me Officer Overboss, if you like."

Shit. This plan had been spinning off into unpredictability from the moment it began. From the word go, nothing had been quite what he expected. Now he had no idea what trajectory it was going in. This latest revelation was big, he could feel it. Down the line, there would be ramifications, he knew. He couldn't predict what it might be, so he just had to roll with it for now. In the short term at least, nothing had changed. It was time to leave.

"All right, boss. Enough gabbering. We really need to get out of here before word spreads you're dead. And nothing about this Enclave stuff, neither."

"Not a word, I promise."

He grunted in approval and moved towards a gun rack. Taking a revolver, he opened the cylinder to check for ammo, and tossed it to the Overboss. He picked up a box of .44 and brought it over. "Here you go, boss."

She took the proffered ammo and quickly loaded the cylinder, holstering the gun in a black case at her belt.

"Best gun we had over there. Everything else here is shit. More likely to shoot your own fingers off than your target."

She nodded, her hand resting on the revolver's handle. "All right, let's hit the road."

Nuka-Town USA. When this place was built, before the war, it served as the central hub of the park. Filled with gift shops, restaurants, and arcades, and visited nightly by the bright lights of it parades, the main thoroughfare was built as a lasting monument to the kind of idealized American lifestyle that every good citizen strived to achieve and preserve. Now, it was almost like a tomb. The vibrant paint was chipped and faded, the buildings sunken in, and where once stood tall monuments to America's favorite soft drink, there were now only rusted, derelict shells. The amusement park guides, robots built in prewar society so long ago, still remained. But, their programming had become corrupted, and now their wide, faded smiles issued only violent threats. And now, instead of happy cast and guests, the place was populated by the slave-collar bound "traders" who tended the market stalls, and the roaming gangs of armed hooligans who called this place home. They didn't know what this place was called, they didn't care about its history. It was theirs by right of conquest, and piss on anyone who tried to take it from them.

"One false move and you're meat!" A raider jeered as they approached. One of the dozens of comments they heard as they travelled north along the main road.

Gage moved at a brisk pace, and glared at any fool mulling around who tried to stop him. He had no time for small fry like these, and had no trouble filtering out their gibbering voices as nothing more than background noise. None of these people mattered in the grand scheme of things, and if the Overboss was going to keep her position for long, she'd have to learn it.

She seemed oddly perturbed by the N.O.R.A. robot near the marketplace for some reason, but she kept her mouth shut and didn't gawk at either the scenery or the park's vibrant denizens. His own twitched into a small grin of approval. Looks like she grasped the situation pretty well after all.

Fizztop Grill stood atop Fizztop Mountain, an attraction at the very north end of Nuka-Town USA. Gage didn't know what its purpose was when the park was operational, but now the foot of the mountain served as the main base and dungeon of The Disciples, the most wretched bunch of the main three gangs who pulled weight in the park. In front of Fizztop Mountain was a large plaza square, dominated by the wide fountain at its center. It was there, close to their destination, that the pair ran into trouble.

It was a raider, dressed up in the usual ridiculous hodgepodge of metal and leather that could be called their uniform. But it wasn't how he was dressed that was the problem, rather, it was how he wasn't. His little joker stood out under the blue sky, showing the whole plaza the hand God had dealt him. Streaming forth from the unlucky man was a glowing torrent of Nuka-tinged emanation. Right into Nuka-Town's main watering hole. Right in front of the Overboss' personal roost.

Gage crossed his arms. "Boss, we got ourselves a situation here," he said. "This little quantum-sucking scumbag is pissing in our water supply, and showing you a great disrespect."

"And?" The Overboss asked, not even looking at the man.

He hoped she wasn't being bashful. "Well, that obviously calls for some kind of demonstration."

"A demonstration?"

"A-yep."

The man in front of the pair wasn't even paying attention to them. He must've been drunk or high, it didn't matter which. What mattered now is how the Overboss would act. He couldn't prod her any further, couldn't coach her. This was a test of her attitude and aptitude, to appraise the situation and act accordingly in a manner befitting her station. She either had to have it or she didn't. Others in the plaza were watching now, seeing what was going on with their number two and the newcomer they'd have to call boss. This little scene could determine everything, and he prayed her next act wouldn't leave the crowd wanting.

Her hand was still on the handle of her gun. "Right," she said to herself. "A demonstration."

There was no other warning. The gun was out of its holster, and a deafening bang echoed throughout the plaza before he could even blink. His head rang with the sound of gunfire, and without a second thought the smoking gun was back in its case. She grabbed the man by the hair before he could fall in the water, and tossed him to the side, out of her way. "He died quick," she declared, not even raising her voice for the benefit of those gathered. "Next asshole who tries this shit won't get off so lucky."

Well, it was direct, he'd give her that. He wasn't the judge, so he wondered how she did. He cast his gaze around the crowd, which had gained in size with the report of the revolver. Those who had seen the event first hand were filling in those who hadn't, and very soon the whole of Nuka-Town would be filled in on the latest gossip. Well, let their tongues wag. It was the gang leaders whose opinions mattered. When their minions filled them in on what happened, what sort of message would they take away from it? She was quick to action and direct. No second guessing, she followed through. When tale of her quick draw execution before the flop spread through the park, it was sure to buy them at least a couple of days before anyone bet against her. They'd test her first, see if it was just a bluff or if she had the cards to to back it up.

He stepped forward, past the body, and flipped a switch on the wall. A mechanical whir started, and soon a rickety elevator platform descended to meet them. "Well boss," he said as the pair climbed onto the platform. He hit the switch again and with a sudden jolt the elevator began climbing towards Fizztop Grill. The fountain plaza stretched out before them, occupied by dozens of shrinking, gawking lowlifes. Beyond them was main street of Nuka-Town USA, beyond that the central market place. Past the market was the main gates, and beyond that was the monorail that brought her here. Far beyond that, in the hills that stretched out in the horizon, lie the edges of her kingdom. And past even that was The Commonwealth, where destiny awaited.

"Welcome to Nuka-World, boss. Welcome home."


End file.
